


My Unspoken Passion

by zebraljb



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Birthday, Feeling old, Fluffy banter, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:41:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26396569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb
Summary: Harry is not happy that he's turned sixty. He's also not happy that Merlin ISN'T sixty.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin
Comments: 19
Kudos: 58





	My Unspoken Passion

**Author's Note:**

> So the pictures of Colin Firth that were taken on his last day of being 59...he has on this all grey and blue outfit with a newsboy cap that made me think of Mark Strong...and it got me to wondering what would happen if Harry accidentally tried to wear Merlin's trousers...

“Bloody fucking hell!”

Merlin forces his eyes to push open. He instinctively slides a hand to the other side of the bed. Warm, but empty. “Harry?” Merlin fumbles on the nightstand for his glasses. Harry wears his even when not on a mission or on call for Kingsman. He says he wears them at all times just in case Kingsman requires his assistance. Merlin knows Harry wears them to look smarter…unlike Merlin, who wears his glasses to improve poor vision. He has no need to prove his intelligence to anyone.

“Bloody fucking trousers…”

Merlin blinks as he realizes he can’t see Harry anywhere. He hears a scuffling on the floor by Harry’s side of the bed. He rolls and peers over the edge of the mattress. “Harry? What are ye doing on the floor?”

“Oh, the bed was far too comfortable…I decided to start sleeping here,” Harry says sarcastically.

Merlin slowly looks at Harry’s bed-tousled hair and bare chest, his eyes stopping at Harry’s waist. His dark pubic hair and flaccid cock are peeking out from the waist of grey jeans…jeans that have stopped at Harry’s arse and decided to go no further. “I’m not sure where to start here. Were ye dressing as ye snuck out?”

“Of course not. This is my bedroom too…why would I sneak out half-dressed? Those days are far behind me.” Harry tries to look casual but fails entirely. Harry doesn’t like to walk naked from the en suite to the bed, so Merlin knows how uncomfortable his husband probably is. “Will you quit leering at me, you filthy old man?”

“Old? I do believe that between the two of us, I…”

“Oh, DO shut up.” Harry grunts and rolls over onto his hands and knees. The grey jeans are still hooked at his arse, giving Merlin a tantalizing view of creamy skin. Harry struggles to his feet, flopping about like a seal. He tugs at the waist of the jeans, frowning as they stick to his hips and inch north ever-so-slightly. “I don’t believe this. It’s official. I’ve gone to pot. I am over the hill. I am…old.”

“Christ.” Merlin sighs and flips back the covers, stretching and reaching for the ceiling. Comfortable in his nudity, he steps in front of Harry and hooks his fingers into the belt loops of the jeans. “I hate to tell ye, Harry, but ye crested the hill and went over it about five birthdays ago.”

“Fuck off.” Harry shoves Merlin in the chest but Merlin doesn’t let go. “Why am I still married to you?”

“Because I know far too many secrets, including where literal bodies are buries. Because I know exactly which closets hold your skeletons. Because Eggsy is like a son to us and a divorce would wreck him.”

“He’s in his thirties. I doubt he’d be that broken up.”

“Because you love me.” Merlin cups Harry’s face in his hand and kisses him. “Ye are over the hill. Ye are sixty. Many people consider that old.”

“Yes, but…I can’t be old. Old men get wrinkles and grey hair and get fat and…”

“Ye can be old and still be handsome and sexy and ‘fit as fuck,’ as the young boys say.”

“What young boys?” Harry demands.

“Oh, Harry…why do ye think I always send ye for our order when we breakfast at the café?” Merlin says with a grin. “There are at least two tables of regulars…the twinks in the corner under the red umbrella…who run a constant commentary about ye every time ye stand up.”

“Really?” Harry flushes with pleasure. 

“Aye. I get to hear how you’re ‘Daddy as fuck’ or ‘fit as fuck’ and that most if not all of them wish you’d bring them home and teach them a lesson.”

“My word…no manners,” Harry says, but he doesn’t look at all offended.

“Harry Hart.” Merlin gently kisses him, hands sliding down over the deliciously tender skin of Harry’s upper arse. “I dinnae know how much my opinion means to ye, but I think ye are as beautiful as ye were the first minute I laid eyes on ye.”

“That was so long ago…you’re old too, I’m sure time has addled your memory.”

“It has not. Ye were wearing a charcoal grey jumper and black trousers. Your hair was curly and falling over one eye, and your cheeks were pink with anxiety. Ye bit at your bottom lip as ye looked around the room.” Merlin brushes a thumb over Harry’s cheek. “I couldn’t decide if I ye were the knight or the damsel in distress.” He kisses the bottom lip in question. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted to snog ye until ye forgot your name, or place my prick between these pretty lips until I forgot mine.”

“Hamish,” Harry mutters, burying his head in Merlin’s shoulder.

“Thankfully I was eventually able to do both.” Merlin smiles as he feels Harry pinch his side. “Ow!”

“You’re only three years younger than I…why don’t YOU look old?”

“Ach, Harry, don’t be ridiculous.” Merlin points to his eyes. “Do ye see these lovely little crow’s feet? Do ye see this?” Merlin pinches as his throat a bit. “This skin didn’t used to hang here. And this.” He takes Harry’s hands and places them on his stomach.

“Hamish, there isn’t an inch of fat on you.”

“Because I work three times as hard to keep it off. Ye are perfect, Harry, just the way ye are. I would nae change a thing about ye. I love your hair…even if it is slightly thinner with strands of silver.” Harry claps a hand on the top of his head. “I love the lines at the edges of your smile. I love the new curves to your body.” Merlin caresses every bare inch of Harry he can reach. “I even love that ye are not always ready at the drop of a hat…” Merlin ghosts his hand over Harry’s half-naked groin and earns a groan of embarrassment from his husband. “Because that means we now cuddle more…hug more…kiss more. And I love that.”

“My sweet Hamish.” Harry gives him a tender kiss. “I want to be the man you fell in love with.”

“You are. And ye always will be.” Merlin kisses him. “We’ve been through far too much together, and I’m too old to train someone else to take your place.”

“Bastard.” Harry pokes him again.

“I do know why your jeans don’t fit.”

“Because I’m a fat hog. Disgusting. I ate so much rich food at dinner last night, and then the cake. Why did you let me have two slices?”

“Because ye were turning sixty and ye deserved two slices if ye wanted two slices. But that is nae why they dinnae fit.”

“Why don’t they?” Harry pouts adorably as he tugs at the jeans.

“Because they’re mine. Your jeans are over there.” Merlin points to a similar pair of jeans neatly folded over the back of a chair.

“My…oh, yes.” Harry chuckles. “That’s right. Even though you were pawing at me like a dog in heat, I nicely…” Harry glares at him. “Yours don’t fit? We wear the same size!”

“Perhaps in length,” Merlin says sheepishly. At his last fitting he’d been told that he’s gone down a few inches in the waist. Harry, apparently, has not.

“Bastard.” Harry shoves him away, flops onto the bed, and tugs at the jeans. “Get these ridiculous things off me.”

Merlin kneels on the floor and pulls until the jeans slither down Harry’s long legs. He lets them puddle onto the floor and starts crawling up Harry’s body. “Oh look…we’re the same size now.” He presses Harry down, lining Harry’s body up with his own.

“Not where it counts,” Harry mutters, sighing as Merlin’s teeth find his collar bone. He reaches between them and grasps Merlin’s hardening cock. “This is one place I definitely don’t mind being bigger than you.” 

“As you say, Harry,” Merlin says, surging up for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Title/story inspired by the Billy Joel song "Just the Way You Are."


End file.
